Post by CHARLIE IRVING on Feb 5, 2012 16:32:17 GMT -6
CHARLIE MICHEAL IRVING
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I’m gonna pick up the pieces
And build a lego house
And if things go wrong
We can knock it down.[/center]
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ONE GENERATIONS LENGTH AWAY
from finding life out on my own
from finding life out on my own
AGE: Sixteen
BIRTH DATE: First of January, 1996
SEXUALITY: homosexual
ETHNICITY: British
PLAY BY: Harry Styles.
YEAR/GROUP: Junior
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STOP THIS TRAIN,
I want to get off and go home again
I want to get off and go home again
A lot of people would describe Charlie as a piece of work countertenor, and it would be a pretty fair statement. He even agrees with it.
Charlie has always known that he was incredibly talented, and he also knows that anyone who (for whatever daft reason) disagrees with him has some severe mental disability or whatever. His strength is in dance and gymnastics, which is what makes him such a brilliant Cheerio, but he is also a very talented singer. However, McKinley politics prevented him from ever showing his vocal abilities, his status as the main male Cheerio being the only thing protecting him from slushy facials and the homophobic abuse he saw fellow homo Kurt Hummel suffer on a daily basis. What Charlie considers his main strength (but other consider his biggest weakness) is his ambition. He simply refuses to allow anything to get in his way of his dreams, writing a ten page essay for Sue Sylvester as to why he should be promoted to Head Cheerleader, including one page devoted to how he would’ve been willing to have been fired from the canon at the 2011 regionals competition. This ambition will rear its ugly head in the glee club as well, as Charlie won’t have a problem explaining to anyone who challenges him exactly why he should have a solo and why they shouldn’t. The only thing Charlie will admit to having a problem with is his insecurities. Where most people see a cute, green eyed, shaggy chocolate haired, well toned Cheerio star, Charlie sees a pudgy, spotty mess and constantly berates himself for this, which in part contributes to his snotty attitude and ambition. In regards to his musical taste, Charlie has a secret love of pop rock and heavy metal, but he wouldn’t dare repeat that in school. It’s bad enough that he tries to get Ms. Sylvester to incorporate show tunes into Cheerio routines!
HISTORY:
When Charlie was first born, he and his family lived in the small town of Barnsley, South Yorkshire, England. His mother owned her own occult store and his father was the part-owner of a landscaping business. When his mother, Diane, was pregnant with her second child, when Charlie was about three years old, she and his father, Michael, decided to move to Lima, Ohio, where Michael’s partner had opened a new business and wanted Michael to take charge. Diane also found the opportunity to branch her business out, leaving her sister in charge of her shop in England and opening a small smoothie bar that she and Charlie worked in, aptly named the Lemon and Lima.
It was when he was eight years old that Charlie discovered his talent for singing. From as far as he could remember he had been a dancer, and a damn brilliant one, and during one of his ballet sessions he heard a ten year old Rachel Berry singing the song that the group had been dancing to during their performance. He had always hated Rachel, perhaps because she was the only person he would admit was on par with him and had a chance to be better than he was, but when he heard her sing he found his hate for her grew even more. She was amazingly talented, that’s true, but Charlie was just as musically gifted as she was. Whatever Maria she could be, he could be ten times the Tony and Maria at the same time if he wanted to. It was that day that the eight year old Charlie Irving swore that one day, maybe in fifteen years, maybe in thirty, Rachel Berry would see him accepting a Tony, Golden Globe or Oscar (he wasn’t bothered which, he’d have at least three of each at this point anyway) on her small screen television while nursing one of her four children and tell everyone she saw that she and him and he been in the same ballet class.
Charlie joined the Cheerios in his freshman year almost straight away, Ms. Sylvester being impressed with his talents as a dancer and a gymnast and incorporating him into the routines as a lifter. Soon it became clear that Charlie was more than just a pair of muscular shoulders for girls like Santana Bitchpez and Quinn Fatbray to balance on, and Charlie started to work his way up the pyramid. However, he felt betrayed by Sylvester after Fatbray got pregnant and Santana was promoted to Head Cheerio instead of him during his freshman year, only for Stretch Mark to regain her status and pretend her lizard child had never happened the year after. It was at the end of that year that he noticed New Directions had finally gotten to Nationals, lead by none other than Rachel Berry. It was then that Charlie decided joining the glee club would have multiple benefits, those being pissing off Sylvester and having the opportunity to smack down Berry. Fun for everyone, right? Plus, it helped that there was some serious arm candy in that glee club, and maybe Kurt Hummel could help him finally get a boyfriend.
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I CAN'T TAKE THE
speed it's moving in
speed it's moving in
FATHER: Michael Irving, 42
SIBLINGS: Alex Irving, 13
OTHER IMPORTANT PEOPLE: NA
ORIGIN: Barnsley, South Yorkshire, England.
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I KNOW I CAN'T, BUT
honestly, won't someone stop this train?
honestly, won't someone stop this train?
AGE: 18
EXPERIENCE: Been roleplaying since last June, but never Glee.
OTHER CHARACTERS: N/A
WRITING SAMPLE: at least 200 words, please!
“Oh mother fu-” Alavda was cut off when a second arrow whizzed over her shoulder, pinning her hair to the tree. The first arrow had bounced off her heavy armour, so the beautiful elves hiding in the trees had aimed for her face. Alavda had initially thought she was lucky that they had pinned her to the tree by her hair, but then realised Dalish arrows never missed. Ever. The two elves looked like something directly out of a sailor’s fantasy as he was approaching shore leave. Two voluptuous maidens dressed in revealing leather armour, one with beautiful, yellow corn-silk hair and the other had curling tendrils of flaming ginger hair to her waist. The blonde woman was aimed with the longbow and the other with daggers. The dagger-wielding elf approached the pinned warrior, kicking her sword out of reach and bringing the blade (Ériu had called it a dar’misu) to her throat.
“What brings you so far south, shemlen?” the red head hissed.
“These lands were awarded to the People by your shemlen queen and Mahariel. What do you want?” The lyrical accent of the blonde sounded low and dangerous as she slowly approached Alavda, arrow knocked on her bow. How the hell did she get into this situation?
Flashback
“So, I think it would more sense for you two to seek out one of the clans and then come and collect me” Alavda finished. Velanna, as always, didn’t really show any emotion. However, the elvhen mage announced her departure and stalked away from the camp. “You aren’t joining her, Ériu?” the non-magical elf muttered something about hunting before setting off in the opposite direction. Alavda was a little ticked that her authority had been undermined with barely any word on it. That would be mentioned to Talia in her report. Deciding to think nothing of it, the warrior stripped her armour and begun to polish it, dressed in just her peasant clothing. That was when the first arrow shot towards her face. She didn’t know where the rogue-like reflexes came from, but she raised the gauntlet she was polishing to her face and blocked the arrow. Picking up her blade and allowing the Holy fire to envelope her body, she charged towards the trees, only to end up in the situation she was now in.
“I am a Grey Warden” Alavda growled. “I am here searching for one of the Keepers with two of my own Dalish companions. I mean your People no disrespect”
“You attacked us!” The red haired woman growled.
“You struck first!” Alavda spat back.
“Enough! She shall come with us” The blonde snapped. Taking a vial of green liquid from her belt, the elf carefully uncorked the vial and held it under Alavda’s nose. The warrior couldn’t help but inhale the vapour, soon being reduced to a babbling mess as she dropped to the ground, vaguely aware of each woman grabbing a leg and dragging her along the ground.
.
“What brings you so far south, shemlen?” the red head hissed.
“These lands were awarded to the People by your shemlen queen and Mahariel. What do you want?” The lyrical accent of the blonde sounded low and dangerous as she slowly approached Alavda, arrow knocked on her bow. How the hell did she get into this situation?
Flashback
“So, I think it would more sense for you two to seek out one of the clans and then come and collect me” Alavda finished. Velanna, as always, didn’t really show any emotion. However, the elvhen mage announced her departure and stalked away from the camp. “You aren’t joining her, Ériu?” the non-magical elf muttered something about hunting before setting off in the opposite direction. Alavda was a little ticked that her authority had been undermined with barely any word on it. That would be mentioned to Talia in her report. Deciding to think nothing of it, the warrior stripped her armour and begun to polish it, dressed in just her peasant clothing. That was when the first arrow shot towards her face. She didn’t know where the rogue-like reflexes came from, but she raised the gauntlet she was polishing to her face and blocked the arrow. Picking up her blade and allowing the Holy fire to envelope her body, she charged towards the trees, only to end up in the situation she was now in.
“I am a Grey Warden” Alavda growled. “I am here searching for one of the Keepers with two of my own Dalish companions. I mean your People no disrespect”
“You attacked us!” The red haired woman growled.
“You struck first!” Alavda spat back.
“Enough! She shall come with us” The blonde snapped. Taking a vial of green liquid from her belt, the elf carefully uncorked the vial and held it under Alavda’s nose. The warrior couldn’t help but inhale the vapour, soon being reduced to a babbling mess as she dropped to the ground, vaguely aware of each woman grabbing a leg and dragging her along the ground.
.
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application template credit
to samantha rae of caution 2.0.
lyrics credit to the john mayer.
please don't steal!
application template credit
to samantha rae of caution 2.0.
lyrics credit to the john mayer.
please don't steal!
